Silver Green
by Zarafla Kirtan-Pherrin
Summary: What would it be like to have your worst enemy work beside you at all times? What would it be like to have the person you love work beside you and hate you? Will anything work? With just a little bit of magic, anything is possible...
1. Appointment

_Author's Note: Original story not mine except for scenarios and student names. No suing allowed!_

Chapter 1: Appointment

It was another day at Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft And Wizardry; and of Harry Potter's fifth year teaching there. Although he had wanted to be an Auror, he felt as if his contributions could be of use to the school ever since Dumbledore died his sixth year. And now, five years after the defeat of Voldemort, Harry had been teaching Defense Against The Dark Arts. However, to his great disappointment and anger, not only had the Headmistress hired him, but had hired a certain individual with platinum blond hair and strikingly silver eyes. Draco Malfoy had sought a job as the Potions master since his inheritance had been taken when his father had been convicted of being a deatheater. But since the ministry couldn't pin Malfoy of being a part of his father's schemes, they reluctantly let him off. And so it was that Malfoy needed a way to restart his life. Although McGonnagal was skeptical of him, she had thought it over and decided everyone needed a second chance.

'She's grown way too soft into hiring him,' Harry thought, as he always did, ever since Malfoy became a professor.

It was Harry's off hour today, however, from his students, so he sat at his black wood desk in his study and pulled at his blood red neck tie absently. Looking out the window, Harry watched a group of second years walk over to the beech tree him, Hermione, and Ron used to sit at during their years at the school. A whisper of a smile. Gone. A haunted glow in his eyes. Memories flashed before them. The young professor then turned an emerald gaze to the door of his study as the brass handle turned. A young witch with red hair and overly large brown eyes shyly sidled up to the oak chair that was settled at the front of his desk after she quietly closed the door. The girl gave an awkward smile but didn't sit down. Tiny hands shook.

"P-Professor Potter, sir?" The girl squeaked.

"Yes, Arlington?" Salina Arlington. A third year Hufflepuff.

"I was wondering i-if y-you'd maybe give me another chance at the-the in-class assignment from last week on Thursday, sir."

"You mean, another chance at the Bogart?"

"Y-yes." She looked down at her shoes, blushing embarrassingly.

"Well, of course, Arlington. There's no reason why I should deny you another chance. You have courage, Miss Arlington," he looked into her eyes, "to come and ask to prove yourself against a creature that takes your deepest fears into form. I believe you can do this."

She blushed more. "Thank you, P-Professor, sir."

"Please, call me Professor Potter. There's no reason for formalities such as 'sir' with me." A warm smile.

"Okay, Professor Potter! I won't l-let you d-down!" She said with growing confidence.

"How does next Tuesday sound? In the classroom, of course?"

"That's g-good!"

"Okay. Be off with you. I'm sure you have more important things to do than stay."

She bounded out of the room in a flurry, wrenched the old door open, and silently shut it behind her. Harry let out a sigh. His gaze fell to the far lower left-hand corner. The black-haired youth suppressed a shudder, becoming nauseated. It was only eight years ago that a certain ex-Auror's trunk was there. What was inside it... He gasped, fighting not to be sick. He didn't want to remember the horrific sight of the real Mad-Eye Moody's body laying in there, naked and half-starved, almost hairless like a newborn rat.

_Author's Note: Please R&R! Tell me what you think! There's more to come along... This is just the story that I'm working on at the moment while I try to get rid of my writer's block on my other story, "Like The Unlikely"._


	2. Harry's Perspective

_Author's Note: No suing. No blah, blah, blah... You know the drill, people!_

Chapter 2:Harry's Perspective

Harry looked around the study and all sorts of memories came back to him, ever since he was a small first year all the way to his sixth year. He never went back for his seventh, but he had enough experience and outstanding O.W.L.s to get a job as a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. And he was close friends with Headmistress McGonnagal, so she was thrilled to have him come to Hogwarts and teach. His first year of teaching was a bit nerve-wracking, he had to admit, and there were some habits he had to break-like coming into the staff break room sometimes when invited by Professor Longbottom, instead of feeling like a student being dared into breaking the rules and avoiding it altogether-but the year went by without major incident on his part. After his second year of teaching, he began to like his job and found enjoyment in it. Of course, the knowledge of Malfoy being a part of the teaching staff made the experience uncomfortable to deal with-if not intolerable.

The whole first four years of his career, Harry and Draco had chairs set far away from each other at the staff's banquet table in the Great Hall, they regard each other unwillingly and with iced detachment at the staff meetings, and aside from those necessary socialites that protocol demanded, they avoided each other altogether. Malfoy, however, avoided everyone of the staff unless it was a staff meeting, or sometimes he came down for meals. Most of the time he stayed in his chambers. No one knew what he did during those times he was alone. It was rumored he just mixed potions and was trying to discover a new mixture. But whatever was really going on in Professor Malfoy's chambers, Harry knew it must be something of evil intent.

Harry Potter, however, couldn't be any more wrong...

_Author's Note: I know, I know. A short chapter here. But I assure you, most loyal readers, that I've been writing this story out long hand and there's definitely more to come! I just wanted to split this section off so I have some decent chapter bits for this story. R&R as always!_


	3. All I Need Is Inspiration

_Author's Note: As usual, cats... No suing!_

Chapter 3: All I Need Is Inspiration

The blond Slytherin teacher paced about his dungeon office, like he had been for almost every day of every year since he had returned to teach Potions. He wanted to be heard, understood, by the other staff members, but most of all, he wanted to be heard by the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. He wanted Harry to know that he had nothing to do with the dark lord or his minions. He truly despised his dead parents. Malfoy was much like Harry: alone. He didn't have family either. Even when Lucius and Narcissa where alive, he was still outcasted by them. They didn't love him, they only used him for their own ambitions. Because he sought their affection, Draco was determined to downtrodden those that weren't of pure descent. But in the end, it was all for naught. When his father finally asked him to join the dark side and be a puppet to Voldemort's whims, Malfoy refused. Although he lashed out at others-which now he regretted-he didn't believe in Voldemort's vision of a strictly pureblood wizarding world. He did make snide remarks to those of mixed blood, but inside he felt horrible to have to humiliate and alienate them. Inside, Malfoy wasn't a "true Malfoy" after all...

He stopped his pacing and stood before his steel-lined, leather-topped desk. Parchment was neatly stacked , according to class and level, all around the desk-evenly lined with one another. Two pale hands leaned firmly upon this desk. A silver ring, set with an emerald, glittered from his left middle finger and each finger was set with polished, long, black nails. The hands were smooth, white marble. Cold and delicate thin fingers. Soft palms. Draco gripped his hands into fists, the black nails biting into his soft palms like scalpels. The nails bit viciously like his teeth bit his lip in contemplation. He moved away from his desk and looked into the fire in the grate at the far right corner of the room. It held no answers in the cherry red embers. Malfoy knew that, however, he'd have to face his fear of rejection and take that chance to talk to him and explain his innocence. If only he could somehow get Harry to come to him...

A smile bloomed as inspiration formed in his mind. What better way to get the young professor to come to him than to request a meeting? He shuffled back to his desk and gently unclasped a drawer in his desk with the tips of his nails. Draco withdrew a sheaf of black parchment, his most expensive parchment for special occasions and formalities. The paper was especially soft, like damp tree bark, but would not tear easily. The silver insignia of Slytherin resided in the upper right hand corner. It smelled of dogwood and ivy, Malfoy's cologne. He set down the parchment and then pulled out a crow's feather quill and a black bottle of silver ink. Settling in his high backed, leather chair, he dipped his quill and began to write...

_Author's Note: By now, you should know what to do: R&R like always!_


	4. Black Mail

_Author's Note: As usual, cats... No suing!_

Chapter 4: Black Mail

Mail came that morning during breakfast and Harry wasn't all that surprised to see Hedwig, his snow owl, settling herself between his porridge bowl and a milk jug. His friends always sent him letters (Hermione mostly) almost daily. However, he noticed that the envelope wasn't yellow; the usual parchment color. It was obsidian black with his name in perfect penmanship and silver ink. There was no sender on it. He looked around the table, trying to see if he could catch the author's eye. No one looked at him. McGonnagal talked to Flitwick, Longbottom to Hooch and Hagrid, and the rest of the staff concentrated on their breakfast. The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher probed the envelope and its contents with his wand to make sure there were no hexes, curses, or poisons in or around it. Blank. Nothing. Harmless. Why did it unsettle him so to stare at such an innocent, beautiful piece of stationary? Obviously it was important-or at least, someone took the effort to catch his attention with such flattery. The latter seemed more likely. He wondered who. Harry picked up the envelope and flipped it over. No wax seal. So it was magically sealed. A wave of his wand and an incantation later, he slid out the unusual black parchment with a spidery-silver scrawl. A silver snake in one corner. Bewildered with curiosity, he began to read as the scent of ivy and dogwood filled his lungs.

Harry Potter,

I formally request that you join me for dinner tonight in my chambers so that perhaps we can talk and settle our differences. I understand your contempt for me, but I inquire for your presence. I want to at least explain myself for the behavior I wielded for the past few years and would wish for you to hear of my reasons. Come to my dungeon chambers at 10:00 this evening for this meeting. Thank you for your consideration.

Draco Malfoy

Speechlessness coated his throat, rereading the message in order to comprehend the implications. The young, dark-haired professor looked down the table. As usual, the tell-tale sign of platinum blond was nowhere in sight. He sighed. It was obvious he'd have to wait until tonight to know what the Potion's master wanted. The day had finally come. He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling older beyond his years.

'Well, I'll just see what Malfoy wants later.' He thought to himself as breakfast concluded.

Harry stood from the table, pushed in his chair, and walked his way out of the Great Hall toward his classroom. In the corridor before the main doors, Peeves the Poltergeist sat cross-legged on the wall, dropping chalk and inkwells upon a group of second years and the professor waved his wand, surrounding himself in a bubble to avoid the mess as he made his way to the tapestry at the other end. Pushing it back, he revealed another passage that branched to the Charms classroom and the Astronomy tower. Another passage down from this one would lead him to his classroom. Cutting through a group of Slytherin on their way to Flitwick's, Harry passed through another tapestry depicted of a meadow in full spring and came up in front of his classroom. It was still empty, so he knew that he'd made it there early again.

_Author's Note: By now, you should know what to do: R&R like always!_


	5. Admirers

_Author's Note: As usual, cats... No suing!_

Chapter 5: Admirers

This morning, he had Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. All of them were first years. No doubt that Miss Berg and Miss Lutheran would steal seats closest to the front so they could admire their young, sexy teacher. Honestly, there were a few changes about Harry that stole him from his childhood appearance. He no longer wore his thick-rimmed, round glasses. Instead, small oval, dark blue lenses framed in thin wire sat halfway down his nose, giving him a more sophisticated yet rather intimidating look. His hair was still the same unruliness, if somewhat longer with a small growth of sideburns. His eyebrows were somewhat thicker and there was a beginning growth of mustache above his upper lip. His shoulders had broadened, his arms were slightly muscular, his chest was expanded and toned, his legs had been shaped and cut into pure muscle, and his jaw was angular and strong. Harry's cheekbones were set high, defining his face to elegantly masculine features.

The professor's lips were pale, thin lines. His skin was slightly golden, the tan from summer making him glow in the dimly lit corridors. It wasn't a mystery why his students-mainly witches-wanted to have the nearest chair to the front of his classes. At least it made his classes all the more easier, for his students were always eager to answer a question or participate in an in-class activity. All of them did well on exams and tests and even some did extraordinary well with their work. However, if it wasn't for the fact that his students had outstanding marks and they made him laugh, he'd probably have some of them on restraining orders.

He laughed at the thought as he unbuckled his small, brown leather suitcase. Pulling out graded parchment and extra quills, Harry then stepped up on his chair and sat down on his desk, waiting. Ten seconds later, his students walked in, chatting away at each other, two girls breaking away from a group to race to the nearest chairs in front of the class. The professor swallowed back a laugh as the girls settled down in their seats and attentively waited for him to begin the lesson. As everyone finally quieted down, Harry began his lecture.

"Good morning. I'd like to start out this lesson with passing out your graded parchment on countercurses and hexes." A couple groans from the audience. "Now, now. Don't think so negatively. I assure you that most of you have outstanding marks, as usual. The rest of you did okay, but not poorly. I did, however, leave a couple notes in the margins that point out what you could do better in your next assignment to achieve higher marks." The young professor jumped from his desk and landed silently on the polished marble floor. He picked up the stacked paper from his desk and began handing them out, one by one. When he came to a couple girls and handed them their work, they giggled and blushed behind their hands and began frantically whispering to each other.

Some words carried over, however.

"...so hot, oh my god..."

"I'm going to faint! I wish I were older so maybe I could have a chance..."

"I don't care! I'd still take him!"

"Did you hear he's single, though..?"

"...so adorable..."

With his back to the students, he laughed quietly at the comments. Turning back, he continued, sitting back on his desk, the collar of his suit coming undone and revealing sculpted neck muscles and his bronzed collarbone. "Now, then. We shall start today off with a warm-up. Everyone, take out your wants. Remember the countercurses you learned from yesterday." Everyone took out their wands, impatient to begin.

_Author's Note: By now, you should know what to do: R&R like always!_


	6. Love Is In The Air & The Pumpkin Juice?

_Author's Note: Blah, blah, blah. You know this part._

Chapter 6: Love Is In The Air...And The Pumpkin Juice?

An hour and forty-five minutes later, the third year Slytherins and Ravenclaws exited the dungeon classroom of Professor Malfoy. The blond, twenty-two year old was just getting done with putting away ingredients into the Student Store when a red-haired Slytherin girl strolled casually into the classroom as if she owned the place. The air of smugness around the youth clouded Draco's concentration. He looked up, seeing that she was standing in front of him with mischievous intent glittering in her envy-green eyes.

"May I help you, Miss Berkly?" The professor asked, a mixture of annoyance and curiosity coloring his voice.

"Perhaps." The girl clucked her tongue, eyebrow raising in a questionable gesture. Her pale arms were crossed behind her back, a foot tapping to a tune only she could hear. Her red hair reached down to her chin; black circles outlined her eyes, making the green vibrant-almost neon; the girl's bow mouth was set in a smile similar to what a demon's would be, the teeth looking almost like daggers; and she wore her usual Slytherin robes, a prefect's badge, her shirt undone to her collarbone with the tie hanging over her shoulders, and fishnets peeking out from under her skirt to her knees where her socks came midway up her calves. Allison Berkly was a fifth year Slytherin. He had taught her since she was a first year and he had started working at Hogwarts. Ever since the first day, Allison had always tried to capture his attention, outdoing the other students, and even doing her best to seduce him. However, unfortunately for her, Malfoy's are known to be stubborn when it counts. But that didn't stop her from altering her uniforms to capture his interest.

Ignoring her obvious flirtatious remark, Draco put the last of the verbena root in the cupboard and faced the red-head. "What can I help you with then? Do you need help with yesterday's potion?"

"No, not particularly."

"Then do you need help with the assignment I assigned for you last night?"

"I get the assignment. You need two vials of crushed beetles and stir the cauldron counter-clockwise four times until the potion turns silvery-blue-"

"Then what about it do you need help with?"

"-just like your eyes." She sighed, drowning herself in his gaze. Silence greeted the pair.

The blond professor turned to his desk and began to stack papers, avoiding looking at the student in front of him. "I suggest you get to your next class, Miss Berkly, I am very busy."

"I thought you said you were going to help me." A giggle.

"Well, apparently, you did well on your assignment and I'm most assured you can handle it."

"But I don't need help with the work in class." She got closer, her hands delicately folded behind her back. "I need help with satisfying my desires."

Malfoy paused, letting the pages in his hands drop to the stone floor. He closed his pale eyes. "Please leave." A calm command. He reached down and began to pick up the strewn parchment. A small, black clog stepped on a scrap just as he was reaching for it.

"I desire you, Professor." The girl's voice dropped in tone, giving it a more sophisticated sound.

Malfoy stood, forgetting the paper. "And you need to leave, Miss Berkly. This is inappropriate."

"But is it really?"

"You're fifteen."

"Only two years from being legal, Professor. Besides," she took a step forward, "the boys around my age are immature, anyway. I only go for smart, mature men. Who see me," Allison stepped forward again, a sparkle in her eyes. Draco stepped back and fell onto his desk. Trapped. "For me."

The young witch started to straddle him, placing her hands on his inner thighs. The hem of her skirt pulled up as her legs went on either side of his waist.

"Miss Berkly!"

"Please, call me Allison." She crawled further up his torso, pinning him to the desk. Malfoy squirmed, trying to throw the adolescent off. "Don't deny your feelings for me! You want me, I can see it in your eyes!"

"No!" She fell to the floor. "I don't want you, Miss Berkly. I do not date or even have any remote interest in my students." He pulled on his robes. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to talk to the Headmistress about your behavior and what discipline will be best suited for you."

"Professor Malfoy, don't!"

"I thought I'd never have to do this, but you just cost your house fifty points." Icy judgement flashed in his eyes.

"But I can't help this feeling, Professor! I love-"

Malfoy rushed at Allison, putting a marble-cold hand on her forehead.

"Have you taken anything lately, Berkly?" Worry whispered from his throat.

"I don't think-"

"Did you take anything?!" Draco screamed. "Drink anything?!" He shook her.

"Well, I think I drank some pumpkin juice at breakfast, sir."

The handsome Potion's master's eyes grew with dread. "How much do you love me, Berkly?"

"So much, Professor, it hurts. I want you now!" Malfoy avoided her lips.

"Just as I thought." The blond-haired youth murmured under his breath. "Love Potion." He looked her over, noting her eyes and their unusual glossy shine. There was no reflexive flinch when he suddenly threw his hand in front of her face, trying to startle the girl.

"Come here." He grabbed her wrist and took her to his private stores that were located near his study.

Malfoy had Berkly stand at the threshold-admiring him no less-as he looked over the shelves of ingredients and mixtures he personally had categorized over the summer months. Boxes of beetles eyes pulled seventy percent of the lower shelves, vials of unicorn hairs sat in trays on the rest of the lower shelves. Bottles of dragon scales and powdered unicorn horns were labeled and carefully categorized according to potency. Phoenix tail feathers filled a glass box in one corner of a higher shelf. Boomslang skin, in a small quantity, sat in a neat pile on a mid-shelf. More bottles of various pickled animal parts and serum stocked up in groups on another mid-shelf. Herbs, carefully harvested by Professor Longbottom, were separated in their own cardboard boxes. Veritaserum, the clear essence in a small pewter cauldron with a preservation spell over it.

Shoving aside the herb boxes in haste, Draco finally unearthed the cure to the Love Potion in a small crystal goblet, also protected with a preservation spell. The potion was yellow in color, the shade of daffodils, and gave off a fiery, brimstone odor. The taste was a sweet mixture of cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger.

The professor grabbed it, knowing full well that it'd be like handling ice pops that had been set in the freezer for too long. He blew away the steam that rose from the cup and tilted Miss Berkly's head back, measurements so she wouldn't choke.

Draco knew full well that Allison did indeed have one of the hugest school-girl crushes on him, but he also knew that she wouldn't have probably dared to confront him about it and try to seduce him all in one go. He gave her until her seventh year that she'd then seek him as a partner, if she didn't have a boyfriend by then. And she was perfectly within her rights by then to seek the interest of older men, but he'd thought that-no matter the age-students weren't allowed to pursue their teachers. And he didn't want to get in the middle of that controversy.

After two minutes, the small cure was drained and he set the sleeping Berkly in an armchair over by the empty fire grate. With a wave of his wand, he lit a fire and grabbed what looked like dust from a box sitting on the onyx mantle piece. Throwing it in the fire, the flames turned emerald and he leaned his head into them. Instead of heat, the fire was cool. Choking on ashes, Draco muttered, "Madame Pomfrey."

A moment later, he was seeing the Hospital Wing in which an older witch was giving a seventh year Griffindor boy a dose of Skele-gro, for what seemed like a broken knee cap. He waited for a moment when she'd be done tending to her patient. As she started walking to her office, Malfoy said, "Pomfrey! You have a minute to talk?"

Without turning around, the witch responded, "This is no time to chat, Professor, I have patients to watch over."

"This is no idol conversation, Madame Pomfrey. I have a student who has passed out in my office. Apparently, she was drugged with a huge quantity of Love Potion. She needs treatment right away."

The healer witch turned around with a suspicious glance. "Okay, I'll be down there right away."

"Thank you."

Returning back through the flames, the Potion's master stood in his office once more and waited. Ten minutes later, Madame Pomfrey was walking into his office.

_Author's Note: R&R Thanks! Yay for a long chapter!!_


	7. Procedures

_Author's Note: [Insert legal stuff and technicalities here.]_

Chapter 7: Procedures

"The patient is over here." Malfoy answered.

She waved her wand, muttered a spell, and levitated the Slytherin out of the room. The professor followed.

"Apparently, somebody drugged her pumpkin juice this morning. It was a large dosage of the potion that went into her system."

"Mmhmm." Pomfrey said between pursed lips.

"I gave her the antidote to it, so the spell should wear off."

"Then why am I taking her to the Hospital Wing to be treated?"

"She needs other potions to stop her from getting poisoned from the overdosing. Love potion in huge amounts could-"

"I know what it can do, Professor Malfoy, believe me. I didn't go and train to be a school healer for nothing, you know." Pomfrey snapped.

"Okay, okay!" He amended. "No need to get your hair in a knot." A sharp glare pierced him.

As soon as they got to the Hospital Wing ten minutes later, the woman set Allison on a Hospital bed and bustled to her office to grab a red-colored anti-toxin. "You may leave, Professor, I got it all under control from here."

"You sure you don't need help, though?"

"I said I got it all under control, sir. Now please leave. Patients can't tend to themselves."

"I was just trying to help."

"We're fine here, Malfoy." The witch reasoned. "Don't you have another class coming in about fifteen minutes?"

It was nearing dinner when Harry got done with his last class for the day. He had a full schedule and that was challenge enough without all the admiring spectators that would rather daydream about him that pay attention. Potter guessed today was an off day for everyone, since it was the first time that his students didn't pay attention to him. He even had a couple of them pretend to not know what to do in a class activity and had him come help them personally, which dealt with a sixth year Slytherin and a sixth year Griffindor having to try to hold onto a hinkypunk so they could draw a diagram of it. But since they seemed to not be able to hold onto it, he had to circle his hands around the Slytherin's so the other girl-the Griffindor-could draw it accurately. And he noticed that when he helped them, other girls in the class watched the two girls enviously.

However, now since it was about time for dinner, Harry went to his apartment space-that was connected to his study-and went to go get decently dressed. He knew that Malfoy would dress elegantly to show the black-haired youth up, but Harry would see to it that he'd try to outdo the Potion's teacher to prove that he wasn't about to let his pride be stepped on. That was the last thing he'd let happen.

Pulling out sweaters still knitted him for Christmas, Harry rummaged through his closet and found a pair of black khakis. He stripped off his brown ones and quickly slid into the new, clean pair. He then tore off his white buttoned shirt and dropped them to the floor. His arms stretched wide and one hand scratched the back of his neck. His bare, bronzed torso looked glazed in the candlelight; a copper glow. It was toned, lines lightly tracing the muscles of his pecks and abs. His biceps and triceps were hardened and strong. The Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor looked up into the top of his dresser, pushing aside casual button up shirts and neatly folded robes. He finally picked out a red formal dress shirt with a starched collar and billowed sleeves. Sliding it on and buttoning it up, he put on black suede shoes and took out a garnet red tie with little diagonal black stripes. For a moment, as he put it up against his shirt and compared the two and his appearance in the mirror at the back of the closet, he shook his head and replaced the tie. He wouldn't need it to best the other professor in style. Making sure that only one button was undone at his collar, he then grabbed a jet black cape and tied it around his neck. Going to the connected bathroom, Harry opened the medicine cabinet/mirror and pulled out Magical Barty's Hair Gel and took a handful of the orange gel to his hair. After he spiked his hair, and for the first time it was successful, he then headed out of his apartment and on his way to the dungeons.

It was almost ten o'clock and Harry still didn't show up. Malfoy was in his apartment/study, pacing in front of the roaring fire he had lit earlier that day and had maintained since. He was dressed in his best suit. Upon his torso, he wore a silver silk dress shirt that had a pearl button that only buttoned to his navel. The waist of the shirt was stretchable material, so the lower part of his shirt was form-fitting. His collar stood upright upon his shoulders, giving him a shifty-like appearance. His pants were steam pressed and black, with pencil-thin gray vertical stripes. His long, waist-length platinum hair was up in a ponytail with his bangs cheekbone length. Draco had outlined his ice-shaded eyes in black liner. With his shirt, he wore a silver chain that complimented his pale, thin complexion. He wasn't built at all. Ever since he lost his inheritance, he wasn't able to eat much until he got the job as Potion's master. He wore black dress shoes as well.

His dining table, which was glass and steel-lined as well, was set with black hot plates at each end, complete with silverware and cloth napkins. Two glass goblets and a bottle of chilled brandy sat at the side of the table, ready to be filled. Two prime steaks sat on a hot steel tray, with chopped carrots and celery baked alongside the meat. Rich, thick gravy sat in a small porcelain gravy boat on one side, and an uncut loaf of sourdough bread sat on the other side, complete with a bread knife and a stick of butter sitting on a porcelain plate.

Malfoy had went to great lengths to order this dinner and have it set up like it is now. It would only upset him now if Harry never showed up, refusing his invitation. Just as it was ten after the appointed time, Draco became anxious.

'Is he going to show up?' He wondered to himself, looking over at his door every other minute. 'Has he forgotten, perhaps? I'd hate to think he'd pass this up. He's a good man. I'm sure he wouldn't want to miss an opportunity to make amends. Maybe he truly despises me! Did I wrong him so much that he won't ever acknowledge my very existence?'

As he contemplated the worse-case scenarios with himself, the brass knob of the front door turned with a slight creak. He stopped, like a deer caught in head lights. Draco's heart raced, pounding painfully against his ribcage. And that was when a certain individual with black, spiked hair and muted green eyes peeked his head inside the dungeons apartment, feeling out of place.

Harry sidled into the apartment, closing the heavy wooden door with a click and turning to face his rival. Each of the twenty-two year old men were stunned when they saw each other.

_Author's Note: Hello dear fans! I think this is the last one I'll upload for today! I'll upload more later, 'cause my hands are killing me from typing for your enjoyment so much. :P_


	8. Silence For Two

_Author's Note: Sorry for the slow updating! The computer likes to mess with me a lot! Disclaimer same as always!!_

Chapter 8: Silence For Two

'Damn!' Harry yelled at himself in his head. 'He outdid me again! I can't believe I could think that I'd have a chance at beating him at his own game.'

'Oh wow! Potter, you outdid yourself this time. I guess you realized how important this meeting is. Now I'm really glad that I invited you here.' Malfoy smiled outwardly. "Please come on in Professor."

The dark-haired Professor blinked for a moment. An eyebrow raised. "What's with the suave attitude, Malfoy?" He stepped into the room, removing the hooded cape from his shoulders and placing it on the far standing metal hat stand twenty feet away with his wand.

"Really? You're already going to start with the hostilities? I merely wanted to get reacquainted with you this evening." The blond youth gave an amused grin, his cloudy eyes looking almost white in the firelight.

The sight of his pearlescent eyes unnerved the other man at the threshold, giving him the image of blank, unseeing eyes in Draco's head. How this Potion's master looked so much like his father! Even the length of his hair rivaled his late father's growth, although the volume was more sleek and thinner, like a curtain rather than the mane that Lucius had maintained.

Harry, however, could tell it was layered in the back. Apparently, the Potion's master had cut it for this occasion for it always used to look just straight and plain. An unbroken sea of platinum cascading down his shoulders. Sunlight glinting off of fresh snow. But the last Malfoy heir had cut it in such a way that the very top layer was just barely a handful and every layer was tapered at the end. And because the top layer was so short, it stuck up like spikes in the back. To the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, he looked like a prince from some Northern ice region.

The dark-haired youth looked around the apartment complex. The walls were black stone, cold and forbidding, the corners obscured by the darkness that the candlelight and roaring fire couldn't penetrate. The ceiling seemed vaulted, for the lights never reached the top and the light went up twenty feet before it became dim. The floor matched the walls, but had gray and white rugs set down. A silver candelabra sat on the onyx mantelpiece above the fireplace and silver candle holders sat upon steel lined, leather topped side tables around the room. In his peripheral vision, Harry could see the dining table straight ahead of him about fifteen feet away. A tapestry of the Slytherin Emblem hung above the archway that led to the rest of the complex.

"Please, sit down." Draco ushered Harry to a seat at the table.

The man with the spiked, unruly hair took his seat across from the Potion's master, feeling awkward as he settled down.

Malfoy poured himself a goblet of the liquor and rested the lip of the bottle upon the other goblet across from him.

"Brandy?"

It took a moment for Harry to find his voice. "Yes, thank you."

The brown liquid filled the glass. A heady, heavy scent burned the Defense Against the Dark Arts' teacher's nostrils when the acrid smell reached him. As the decanter was set back down on the table with a clink, Harry picked up his glass and peered into the cup. Draco had already begun to sip from his goblet.

"You can test the brandy if you do not trust me." Silver eyes bore into green ones.

The audacity of that statement flared Potter's temper, in which the statement was meant as a slur to his suspicious and untrusting nature. However, he did anyway, glaring at Malfoy the entire time as he drew his wand and muttered an incantation.

"Glare at me all you want, Professor, but even if you didn't check the brandy I'd insist as to prove my point that I have no ill will towards you."

No poison or hexes. Harry took a sip, the brandy searing his mouth and leaving him gasping as if recovering from an injury of a hot iron. Swirling the expensive liquor around on his tongue, he tasted a hint of honey.

"Thank you." The dark-haired youth finally said.

"Not a problem." Draco's silver eyes glittered with inner-amusement.

And so, they tucked into their steaks in a few moments of silence, neither one knowing where to begin a conversation. The tender meat gave away to their appetites, flooding their mouths with an explosion of spices reminiscent to the tanginess of oranges and limes, but roasted with salt and garlic, rubbed with ginger and dry onion powder. The dark-haired professor had never tasted something so delicious in his life! The meat came off the bone as easily as stripping off a wet piece of paper from skin.

_Author's Note: Sorry that this is a short chapter!!! T_T I ran out of ideas on my written form of this story... I should be able to be inspired tomorrow at school. (I mean, what else would I be doing otherwise? -snicker-) Don't hate me. R&R please..._


	9. Drunken Confessions

_Author's Note: Wow... It's been a while hasn't it? Well there should be no distractions from typing now I think! Please enjoy!! :D_

Chapter 9: Drunken Confessions

As soon as they began on buttering the sourdough bread, Harry took a chunk out of his and broke the silence.

"So, you summoned me here, Malfoy-"

"Please," The blond haired youth interrupted, "call me Draco. We shouldn't be so detached from each other more than we already are." He sipped his second glass of brandy.

"Draco." A heavy emphasize. "You have summoned me here to meet with you."

A nod of consent.

"Well, what would you like to talk about?"

"Our past."

A sigh escaped Professor Potter.

"Look," Draco amended, "I know that what I have done can never be forgiven. But perhaps with some explanation, it could clarify the miscommunication."

The familiar flash of volcanic anger-a red glare-glowed within emerald eyes. "Miscommunication?!"

Draco averted his eyes.

"You think all those years were a miscommunication?!" He raged, standing from his seat.

"No, but-"

"BUT NOTHING! It is an insult to me that you think that afterall these years, it was only a communication error! And then you have the guts to even believe, for a second, that this can all be reconciled by a simple dinner?!"

It was Professor Malfoy's turn to storm up from his chair.

"I'll have you know that this," He waved his hands towards the table that seperated them, "took a lot of preparation an planning! This 'simple dinner' was set especially for this meeting, because I knew how important this was. If you had any thought to it, you would realize I spoke badly. So forgive me for my poor grammar!" The blond stated sarcastically.

With a huff of defeat, Harry sat back down, crossed his legs, and downed a full goblet of the spicy liquor. Repouring himself another glass, he sipped this one slowly, calmed.

A few moments of awkward silence went by, neither man speaking to each other. By then, Potter was close to being drunk and Malfoy began to get very dizzy. The dark-haired professor was on his fifth glass and the blond professor had just finished his third. Harry's eyes were dilated and he was red in the face from the flushing heat of the liquid.

"So," The blond said, "Are you calm now?"

"Yea. Sure." The dark-haired man said. "So what do you wanna talk 'bout?"

"Our past. Like I said."

"What 'bout it?"

"Well, I'd like you t' know that I never meant for our rivalry to ever start."

"You started it. 'twas your own bloody fault, Draco."

"I know." A sigh as Draco finished off his glass. "And I feel horrible 'bout it. If I ever had the chance, I would take it all back."

Harry laughed. "You know as well as I do that that is a lie."

"I swear t' you, though. If I had the chance, I would've had it differently."

"Oh yea," The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher snorted, disoriented as he swayed in his seat. "How?"

"I woulda told you that I secretly admire you. That I envy you and only want to be around your very presence."

"Yea!" The other professor giggled. "And I'm a phoenix!"

"You don't understand, Harry! Just listen to me!" The pale man grabbed Professor Potter's hand in his own with a cold, marble touch. The other sets of hands tried to pry away.

"What you doing, Draco? Lemme go." He drunkenly demanded.

"I have no other way to say this, but..." Malfoy looked into Potter's confused green eyes with utter sincerety. "I-I want you."

_Author's Note: Yea, I'm sorry that this chapter seems a bit short. I know I should have more written down somewhere but I don't. I hope you liked the twisted ending there! There's more to come along next time!! What will Harry respond with? ^^_


	10. The Rift Torn Asunder

_A/N: SO! Been a loooooooooooong time since this was updated. ^^; Don't kill me please. Same legal technicalities still apply._

Chapter 10: The Rift Torn Asunder

The dark haired Professor just sat there for a moment, completely stunned. Had he heard correctly? Malfoy was coming onto him? The absurdity of the situation almost made him give a derisive snort. Almost. But if he had to think honestly upon it, he would say that they were always somehow drawn to one another, even when they went to school. Something connected them. If he ever came to terms with it, Harry would admit that he actually had a small attraction for the blond.

Drunk and completely uninhibited, Harry grabbed Draco's shirt collar over the table and slammed their lips together.

So much for small attractions.

They hungrily made out with each other, at this point not caring what differences they had. All they knew was that they both understood they wanted each other, had wanted each other, for a very long time. And oh, they're drunk. Somewhere in their minds, in a warped way, it made sense to go with this course of action.

As Harry knocked over his goblet, Draco separated from their kiss long enough to pull out his wand and vanished the entire table and it's contents away. He wouldn't have a ruined floor, if he could help it. He turned back to their frenzied kissing, giving the roof of Harry's mouth a couple of licks. The moaning he had caused made Draco smile. He never thought that kissing him would be so wondrous.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry spotted the tapestry across the room. Probably Draco's bedroom, if he had to guess. He broke their kiss and hastily took him by the hand, leading him to the chamber beyond.

His guess was correct. A giant, four poster bed sat in the middle of the room, completely furnished with black silk sheets, a black comforter, and silver and dark green pillows. Just like the rest of Draco's chambers, the floor and walls were black stone. A blackwood wardrobe took the far right wall and a door on the left wall led to a bathroom. The only other furniture in the room was a bedside table with a silver candelabra upon it. Harry flicked his wand and uttered the spell to light the candles.

Draco bit his neck from behind. Harry hissed in pleasure, turning around to resume their kiss. The blond tore at Harry's shirt, the buttons coming undone within seconds, as if the material was simply disintegrating. The Potions Professor pushed the red shirt from his shoulders and began to work on his black khakis. Harry, likewise, couldn't keep his hands off the other man. He kissed down his jawbone and to his throat. Eventually, the kisses led to Draco's partially revealed chest. He backed the blond up against one post of the bed, trailing a hot tongue down his torso.

Panting, Draco was able to undo the khakis. They fell in a pool at Harry's feet.

The black haired youth grabbed Draco's slender wrists and pinned them above his head against the post. He looked at him with savage green eyes. It only turned Draco on even more, seeing this rare animalistic side of him. But he couldn't have dreamed what was to happen next. Boldly, Harry let go of his wrists and, instead, knelt down in front of Draco and took the zipper of his pants in-between his teeth and undid the zipper. Draco bit down on his bottom lip, stifling a groan of lust. Harry came back up when the pants fell to the floor and started working on the one button at Draco's navel, also with his mouth. The blond could feel his hot breath on his skin, and it drove him crazy. As soon as the button came undone, Draco pulled Harry up to draw him into another kiss.

Kicking their shoes and socks off, the two tumbled onto the bed, breathlessly moaning.

Because a Malfoy had to have complete control in whatever they did, Draco immediately turned the tables and flipped them over so that he straddled the Defense Professor.

This was just getting interesting...

_A/N: I think I'm gonna be good from now on and continue with this story... ^^; Again, sorry for the really looooooooooong delay. Will update soon!_


	11. Fire and Ice

_A/N: Same legal technicalities still apply!_

Chapter 11: Fire and Ice

He forced his tongue between his teeth and savagely kissed the raven-haired man. Their breathless kiss turned into pants of excitement. Draco wove his hands into those raven locks and pressed himself as tight as he could against the other teacher. He had him, and that little thought made him deliriously happy.

Harry let his hands wander down Draco's back, letting his nails scratch along his skin.

The blond hissed in pleasure, throwing his head back as the man underneath him continued to gouge long, red marks down his back. Harry noticed Draco's satisfaction through the white, silk boxers and grinned. It seemed that the Potion's professor loved it rough...

He shot up from the mattress and bit down on his neck. Draco almost screamed. "Nnnng! ...Harry..." He said on a sigh.

Harry sucked on the sensitive skin on his neck, bruising the pale flesh under his teeth. Another groan of pleasure. He grabbed his long ponytail and undid the hair tie, letting the gossamer white strands fall around him in waves. In the dim lighting, Harry thought Draco as the most beautiful person he had ever seen. He stopped kissing him for a moment and slowly teased the shirt from his shoulders.

The emotion behind the action wasn't lost to Draco; he simply smiled. He joined them back into the kiss and slipped a hand underneath Harry's dark red boxers. With his long, pale fingers, he noticed the goosebumps that crawled over the Defense professor's thighs and lightly traced his hand over Harry's erection.

Harry jumped from the sudden closure of a hand wrapping around his organ, his moans edging into a whimper of erotica.

"Hmmm... Someone's happy..." Draco teased. He pumped his fist over and over, making Harry breathe hard.

Harry tossed his head this way and that, the threshold of his desire brimming over. And just as he thought he couldn't take any more, Harry's glasses were removed and he was flipped onto his stomach. The sudden movement startled him. He looked back over his shoulder as his boxers were ripped from his hips. He could feel Draco aligning himself to his entrance.

"Draco... Wha...?" A sudden intrusion ripped through Harry. Pain exploded inside of him. He cried out, biting into a pillow to stifle his screams.

The blond apologetically kissed down his spine, whispering, "Are you alright?"

Harry shook his head.

"I'm sorry... I'll go slow..."

Harry nodded, too much in pain to really respond or listen. He just wanted the sharp pain to stop. As soon as the Potion's professor above him moved, he gasped. The pain intensified but receded all at once. Draco bucked his hips again, then withdrew. Eventually, it turned into a mindless rhythm, and then it became just mindless. The pain gradually disappeared, to be replaced with a growing blissful indulgence that Harry found himself craving.

He buried his face and arms into the pillows, moaning into the dark sheets, as the white-haired professor gripped his hips from behind and drove into him. He could feel sweat pooling between their skin as their exertion continued reaching for the pinnacle of climax; could feel lips press against his shoulder blade as he was rocked into oblivion. It was amazing. Mind blowing. His memories were hazy, covered with an impenetrable fog of pleasure. Everything was becoming dark, darker still. He couldn't remember... couldn't remember...

And that's when a light burst from the swirling darkness. His body shook and a wave of pulsating sensuality rippled through his being. He gasped for air, feeling as if he couldn't get enough. His extremities were numb and he orgasmed for what felt like eternity, as he felt himself being filled with liquid desire.

After he began to gain function in his limbs, the raven-haired wizard felt himself instantly slide into a dreamless sleep, unable to hold onto consciousness any longer.

Draco came hard, breath hissing from between his clenched teeth and his eyes squeezed shut. The prone body underneath him quaked with exhaustion in his arms. He collapsed. His long platinum hair was matted and clung to his shoulders and scalp.

As he managed to finally flip over and onto the mattress, he unconsciously grabbed Harry's hand in his and passed out.

~/~/~/~/~/

The next morning, Harry's first thought was of how sore he felt all over. His back felt as if someone had snapped it in half over a rock and his head felt ready to split open. Recollections of the night before didn't come to him. He couldn't remember what had happened past drinking goblet after goblet of brandy.

He sat up amidst black sheets and a comforter, massaging his head. The unfamiliar bedding made him stop and take in his surroundings. Everything was blurry. He retrieved his glasses from the steel-lined bedside table, noticing the low stubs of candles melting down a silver candelabra as they continued to burn. Pushing the bridge of his glasses up his nose, he turned to his left, his eyes falling upon the pale naked body of Draco Malfoy.

He became ill to the pit of his stomach.

His white hair was fanned around him in waves and his chest moved ever so slightly to his restful breathing. He looked so innocent and fragile in sleep.

That's what scared Harry about the situation.

_Oh Merlin, what had we done last night? Did we...?_

All he had to do was look at the hickeys and scratch marks upon Draco's body in order to confirm his suspicions. Disjointed memories flashed in his field of vision, taunting him.

Harry jolted from the bed and picked up his discarded clothes from around the room. Hastily putting them on, he snatched his wand from underneath the four poster bed and stuffed his socks and shoes onto his feet.

He started to remember the moaning from last night, like a specter haunting him.

The door to the bedroom flung open and he passed through the tapestry, making a bee-line for the exit. As soon as he closed the door, Harry ran to the set of stairs that led away from the dungeons corridor and bolted as fast as he could to the Great Hall, trying to look presentable and swatting out the wrinkles from his clothes. He came up with the excuse that he simply overslept in his own chambers last night, seeing as how he never told any one of the meeting. Breakfast was still in progress, so no one would think the wiser.

But he couldn't keep one thought out of his mind as he pasted a smile on his lips and strode between the House tables to his place at the Staff table.

_It never happened... it never happened... IT NEVER HAPPENED!_

_A/N: So what do you think? R&R as always!_


	12. Denial And Draco

_A/N: Same legal technicalities still apply!_

Chapter 12: Denial and Draco

Draco woke up, feeling groggy and in pain. He slowly lifted his eyelids, feeling as if a cat had attacked his body during the night. He lifted himself from the black sheets and noticed his arms and chest contained innumerable scratches upon the surface. He gently poked at a dark red splotch on his left pectoral. It felt like a tender bruise, but the teeth marks on his shoulder indicated...

He jolted from the bed as if it were on fire. A hickey? On his chest... _was a hickey?_

The blond professor ran to the wardrobe over by the right side of the room and wrenched it open. Inside the door ran a full-length mirror. Inspecting himself carefully, he traced the bite marks from his shoulder to the hickey that branded his neck, to the other hickey that left it's mark on his pectoral, and to the countless scratches that twirled from his back to his abdomen. He ran a hand through his unusually matted hair and sank to the floor on his knees, at a loss of what to think.

_WHAT WAS I THINKING?_

Well, if he had to be honest with himself, he had been drinking last night. The thought of that brought up the memories as if he were looking into a pensieve. He let his face fall into his hands, his cheeks a startling shade of red.

Oh Merlin, what had he said last night? Did he pour out the darkest desires of his heart to his enemy? What did Potter think? _Does he even remember..?_

He groaned. Of course he remembered. If Draco did, so did Potter.

Suddenly, a bell rang within the school with a loud cacophony of sound. The Potions Professor bolted to his feet and dragged out his clothes for the day, regretting having slept in and missing breakfast. That was okay, though. He could always order the house elves to send him his meal to the classroom later.

After he was properly garmented, he snatched his wand up from the bed and waved it to put the candles out as he exited his chambers.

~/~/~/~/~/~/

He arrived at the Potion's dungeon, not looking forward to teaching the sixth year Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs that awaited his arrival. The sounds of chatter died instantaneously when he strode through the threshold and shut the door behind him.

"Alright class, you will be working on Hammotha's Brew that you had started last week. It should have steeped sufficiently by now and you should have acquired a thin cerulean consistency with indigo flakes floating in it. The only way you can be positively sure that it has achieved a satisfactory amount of time steeping is to note that it smells like peppermint.

"However, I don't advise you to drink it... It's creator, Riley Hammotha, had a sick, twisted humor back in her days and would entice people to drink that foul brew. It may smell like peppermint," he continued, "but it tastes like ashes and excrement." At this, the students in the class expressed their disgust. "And, as you should all know the purpose for this brew, it's meant to bring forth obscure knowledge and dreams. Although, if it's taken in high doses than the recommended amount, it will bring forth nightmares and render the drinker unable to recollect any recent learned knowledge."

The class was silent as he instructed them. With a tap of his wand on the black board, a set of instructions appeared.

"Now, I want you to continue with the lesson today. We are about two-thirds of the way done with it. At the end of class, you should have achieved an opaque, aquamarine color with your potions and it should still smell of peppermint. If it comes up odorless, then you would have made a vile poison, in which you will receive no marks for the entire lesson. Any questions?"

He looked around the room, expecting the usual absence of hands. When none were forthcoming, Professor Malfoy turned from the class and had just thought of what to order from the kitchens for his late breakfast, when he spotted a couple of suddenly raised hands in his peripheral.

Sighing inwardly, he addressed them. "Yes, Miss Roan?"

"What happened to your neck, Professor?"

He blanched, whatever remaining color in his cheeks fading instantaneously. "What does that have to do with the lesson?" He asked in turn, trying to breathe properly.

"Well, I just couldn't help but notice that it looks like a bruise, Professor..."

At that observation from the insufferable Hufflepuff, several of her classmates began taking a keen interest in his neck, craning their own to get a better look.

He gritted his teeth. _Bloody Hell!_

"_That, _Miss Roan, is none of your business. Get to the lesson or I'll take points."

He turned to the other hand that was still raised in the air. The blond allowed the boy to speak.

"Is it a hickey, Professor Malfoy? Do you have a girlfriend?"

Draco slapped a hand over his eyes. _Really?_

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Mister Wells. I told you to get to the lesson. Is that understood, or shall I have to hand out detentions for a week?"

The boy slumped in his chair, defeated. "Just asking..." He pouted under his breath.

A girl in red pigtails spoke aloud next. "Well, do you, Professor?"

"Another ten points from Gryffindor, Miss Lane, for talking out of turn and prying where your nose doesn't belong!"

From there, the rest of the class left him alone, but as many students walked towards the ingredients cupboard, he could hear several students talk about the mark on his neck. He unconsciously put a hand to the bruise to cover it, slightly embarrassed.

This was just not his morning.

_A/N: Sorry for the long-awaited chapter! Hope to spin out some more hilarity soon! R&R as always..._


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